


Tumblr Mini-fics #8: Triskadekaphilia Fic Fest - The Hiddlebatch Fics

by berlynn_wohl



Series: Tumblr Mini-Fics [8]
Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Blindfolds, Elevators, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-18
Updated: 2013-03-22
Packaged: 2017-12-05 17:49:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/726110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berlynn_wohl/pseuds/berlynn_wohl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In March 2013, I celebrated 1300 Tumblr followers with my Triskadekaphilia Fic Fest. Followers requested a pairing and a kink, and I wrote a fill for each that was 13 sentences long, with one sentence that was 13 words long, and with one word that was 13 letters long.</p><p>These are the resulting Hiddlebatch fics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. orgasm denial

[lincolnshire-poacher](http://lincolnshire-poacher.tumblr.com) asked for orgasm denial, based on the mention of it in [Dirty Weekend](711851) (and the "trick" demonstrated in [Snow Day](../../../543482).)  
  
You can read this one in Italian [here](../../../730273?view_adult=true)!

 

*****

  
  
For the first time that afternoon, the noises that Tom made could not definitively be interpreted as sounds of gratification.

“You alright,” Benedict half-asked, slowing down (barely).

“It’s been twenty minutes,” Tom groaned.

“I’m waiting for _you_ , mate.”

“So let me up a bit so I can touch my cock, you idiot.”

Benedict’s resumed his previous pace, pressing Tom’s hips firmly into the mattress now. “Mmm, no.”

“Please,” Tom panted several minutes later, “I need to come really badly.”

“I want you to do your trick,” Benedict said with an amused chuckle.

Tom huffed a few more breaths, but finally declared, “I can’t always do it!”

“You don’t have to _always_ do it; just do it now.”

“You’re not being fair!” Tom pressed his forehead into the pillow and howled with frustration. He turned his face from one side to the other, and as he did so, Benedict looked down and saw two tiny tear-stains on the fabric.   
  



	2. trapped in a small space

 [kelspots](http://kelspots.tumblr.com) asked for Tom and Ben trapped in a small space. 

*****

 

After an indeterminate amount of time (Tom and Benedict were both in costume and without their mobiles), a voice came on the intercom, saying, “We’re working as fast as we can to get you out of there, lads.”

Tom whispered to Benedict, “I reckon now would be a bad time to tell you I’m claustrophobic.”

“Oh, come off it, I’ve ridden the lift with you loads of times.”

“Never a broken lift, that I was trapped in.” Tom was swallowing too often, like his mouth was dry but he didn’t know what to do about it. “I would probably be alright if I had a distraction.”

“I can manage that,” Benedict said, and stepped close to him. He seemed to be fumbling for something in his pocket for a moment, then took Tom by the wrist and directed his hand.

“I’m sorry, did you just take out your cock and put it in my hand?”

“A thousand apologies,” Benedict laughed at Tom’s pretense of offence, “you said ‘distraction.’ I thought you said ‘that thing that makes my life worth living.’”

“Don’t be daft; apple crumble with custard is what makes my life worth living. Er, does that thing on the ceiling look like a CCTV camera to you?”  
  
  
  



	3. rimming/blindfold/U2

[honey-child](http://honey-child.tumblr.com) asked for Hiddlebatch with blindfolds and U2 music. [nationalcelestial](http://nationalcelestial.tumblr.com) asked for Tom rimming Ben. Get ready for a double-fill!  
  
(This fill contains a reference to [Dirty Weekend](../../711851).)  
  


*****

  
  
Folded lengthwise three times, the diaphanous cotton scarf made a suitable blindfold. “Why do you do bother doing this?” Benedict asked as Tom covered his eyes with it. “Whenever you pull something like this and try to be the dominant, aggressive one, it always starts out like, ‘Oh, just let me take care of you,’ but within five minutes you’re on your back with your legs in the air making your same old selfish demands.”

Tom’s affronted look was for no one, as Benedict could not see him. “‘Selfish demands’ is a bit misleading; I tell you to fuck me, not paint my house.”

“Just as arduous and untidy,” Benedict asserted, raising one pointed finger. Then he could feel Tom’s weight leaving the bed, and said, “Hey, where are you going?”

“Calm down, I’m going to put some music on.”

“Er, haven’t we already decided that it’s a bad idea to have music on when we’re in bed? Because you can never resist singing along?”

“But you said that [that U2 record](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VbwuS-xX8qQ) would be a good album to have a nice, slow fuck to.”

Benedict mulled this over, then replied, “Alright, but hurry up so we can get this senselessness over with…no pun intended.”

It was a bit of a surprise that, once the music had started, Tom flipped Benedict onto his belly and proceeded to cover Benedict’s body with his own. As Tom showered the nape of Benedict’s neck with kisses, his cock rubbed against Benedict’s arse, prompting nervous speculation that Tom was suddenly of the belief that turnabout was fair play.

But then the pressure of that hard length was gone, and Tom was moving down his body, and soon Benedict was feeling something much different. A playful tongue, hot and wet, against his arsehole. It was incredible, unlike any other kind of touch one could administer, firm and slow but capricious and unpredictable, all the more so because Benedict had temporarily lost one sense and so found the others heightened. At first, it felt dirty, in sort of a bad way, but as Tom hummed with obvious pleasure against the pink softness of Benedict’s skin, it immediately began to feel dirty in a _good_ way.

Nevertheless, after mere moments Benedict scrambled away and cried out, “Stop, stop it!”

Tom followed after him up the bed, and said, in a half-whispered, soothing tone, “Whoa, hey, what’s the matter? I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d have a problem with me doing that.”

“No, it’s not what you’re doing.” Benedict shoved his face in the pillow and admitted, “It’s because of the music. I can’t stop imagining that it’s Bono doing it to me.”

Tom wasn’t sure why that was a problem: “Really, you wouldn’t let Bono get a leg over?” But several precise strikes to his face with the nearest pillow convinced him to get up to switch the stereo off.


End file.
